Updated: May 27, 2020
Originally Published: November 12, 2018
Trigger warning: child loss
I was raised to believe that abortion was a grave sin, but my views shifted dramatically during my own experiences with crisis pregnancies. At the age of 30, I was happily married and expecting my first child when we received the heartbreaking news that she had a condition deemed “incompatible with life.” I made the decision to carry her as long as possible, hoping to reach full term. Tragically, she was stillborn at 29 weeks. Surrounded by family and friends, we faced the unbearable reality of her funeral, but we were grateful for the support we received.
Years later, when my husband and I decided to try for a fourth child, I was 34, already a mother to our 4-year-old daughter, our “rainbow baby,” and our newly adopted 6-year-old son. Once again, we were struck by the news that this new baby also had a life-threatening condition. Finding ourselves in the same harrowing situation, we faced an agonizing choice: allow our child to die at birth or terminate the pregnancy. The thought of buying another tiny white coffin, of holding another lifeless body, was a nightmare we couldn’t escape.
I chose to carry both of my babies, fully aware that their lives would be brief. However, I do not think any woman should feel compelled to make such a choice.
When the doctor first asked us what we wanted to do after the diagnosis, we hesitated. We thought about our existing children. How could we put them through such grief? Would our baby suffer if we chose to continue the pregnancy? The option to terminate loomed large; I was only eight weeks along, and no one would ever know. Ultimately, we decided to carry her for as long as possible. My personal beliefs guided my choice, but I had the freedom to make it. She was stillborn at 36 weeks, and my children held their sibling, not fully comprehending the depth of loss.
My experience with pregnancy this time around felt different; I was filled with bitterness, depression, and anger toward everything. Eight months after delivering her, I still grapple with profound grief from losing both girls. I don’t regret my decision, but I would never impose such a burden on anyone else. Even if we had chosen to terminate early, the feelings of loss would still haunt us.
What truly shifted my perspective on abortion was witnessing a close friend, Sarah, navigate her own crisis pregnancy and ultimately choose termination. She had also received the devastating diagnosis of a condition “incompatible with life.” As I watched her, I recognized the turmoil in her heart mirrored my own. The anguish of loss, the dread of holding her child’s lifeless body, the painful goodbye—these were all thoughts she wrestled with. With time running out, she had to make a swift decision.
Days later, she walked through a crowd of “pro-life” protesters outside the clinic. The graphic images, the harsh shouts, and the judgment only deepened her fear and shame, solidifying her decision. In that moment, she felt no compassion or understanding; she simply wanted her nightmare to end.
Though we hadn’t known each other well before, this experience drew us closer. I empathized with her grief, having faced my own, and I assured her that whatever choice she made, I supported her without judgment. However, she felt isolated, unable to grieve openly due to the stigma surrounding her decision.
Abortion should not be viewed in black and white, regardless of religious or political beliefs. My conviction that life begins at conception should not dictate others’ choices. We are not a Christian nation; many people hold differing beliefs and have their own reasons for considering abortion. According to the Guttmacher Institute, 54% of abortion patients identify with a religious background, which means that a significant number of women within religious communities may be quietly dealing with their own experiences. The church should be a sanctuary for those in pain, not a source of shame.
As someone who once staunchly opposed abortion, I have come to realize that reducing the need for abortions cannot be achieved through bans or harsh judgments. The focus should be on compassion, support, education, and common-sense solutions. We don’t need to overturn Roe v. Wade to decrease abortion rates; rather, we need policies that support family planning and provide resources for families.
Abortion is a nuanced issue, and most Americans find themselves somewhere in the middle. Politicians often exploit this topic for power, but history shows that the majority of Americans support the legality of Roe v. Wade. Overturning it could lead to greater risks for women and children, including increased maternal mortality and poverty. Desperate women may resort to unsafe measures when cornered. Studies indicate that abortion rates decline when countries legalize abortion.
Some common-sense policies to support women, families, and unborn children include comprehensive healthcare, accessible birth control, and improved maternal care for women of color. Until we implement these changes, we will see rising abortion rates and maternal mortality. These policies are far more effective than electing a pro-life justice to the Supreme Court.
Choosing life can be incredibly challenging, especially with so much at stake. I celebrate the dignity of my daughters and empathize with women who face the difficult choice of abortion. They should not feel forced into silence or shame. My friend’s experience taught me that I want a society that embraces complex choices. Even though I made a different decision, I want every woman to know: you are safe with me.
This article was originally published on November 12, 2018.